


diphylleia grayi

by jongdaed



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Tragic Romance, heavily inspired by jonghyun's book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongdaed/pseuds/jongdaed
Summary: this was inspired by a translation of kim jonghyun's book (by the same name) that i was reading recently, kindly translated by sigani_jina (the translation is here if you're interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618484 and it's still ongoing!)i tried to emulate jonghyun's style of writing so it's pretty different from my usual style of writing but i found myself liking it quite a lot and i hope that i've done justice to jonghyun's writing.





	diphylleia grayi

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Flower: Things That Have Been Released and Set Free - A Novel by Kim Jonghyun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618484) by [sigani_jina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigani_jina/pseuds/sigani_jina). 



it wasn’t always like this. 

there was a time when things were much simpler – when they were happier, both as individuals and together. in those days, the sun shone relentlessly down on them, casting everything in a warm glow. thinking back on it now, how he wished that the sun had stayed with them and lit their path ahead.

at the start of it all, he was a cynic. he was studying literature as his university major, and so he could find and appreciate beauty in the things around him, but at the end of the day, the beauty of everything meant nothing to him. what was the point of it all?

the idea of love that nearly everyone placed high up on a pedestal. comparisons of it being made to roses, to candy, to home. was it really possible to find something so comforting and have it belong to you? but, of course, that was the romanticist’s view of love.

there also exists the viewpoint that is a polar opposite of the beautiful association with the word love. love is pain. love only results in hurt and destruction and even if you had the best time of your life being in love, there will be a time when it ends and then all you will feel is sadness. he much preferred this interpretation of love – he had always been more than a bit of a pessimist, even though he knew that somewhere deep down inside, there was a tiny voice that whispered to him, “wouldn’t it be nice if you could have that beautiful love? something so tragically amazing that when it gets ripped away from you (for even here, he couldn’t lie to himself and say that it would last forever) it leaves you feeling like all the pain to come was worth it, just for everything that you’ve experienced?”

he couldn’t deny that it sounded enthralling. to have one great big love, the kind for the books; where one day people would sigh as they said, “i wish i’ll find that sort of love one day.”

but he also knew that chances of a monumental love happening for him were infinitely low. it wasn’t very disappointing – he might not ever find true love, but how many people can claim that they did? a quick look at divorce rates and possibly an informal, anonymous interview of couples who are married to find out if they’re happy in their marriage (if such an interview even exists) would tell you that no, hardly anyone finds someone they really love. only the ones who are honest to god, truly lucky, do. 

so he swallowed any trace hints of bitterness he felt at the thought of never finding love – maybe, he was really a romanticist after all, but it was well-hidden under all the layers of skepticism he had added over his own heart over the years – and continued on with life. people may feel as though they can’t live with a lack of love, but he was fine with it because he didn’t miss what he had never had.

* * *

it would have been satisfying to say that all of his cynical thoughts were proved wrong by a whirlwind romance – someone who blew into his life with no warning and disrupted all the peace, but brought joy to his bleak, grey life. because he did feel as though he was merely going through the motions each day, and that he wasn’t enjoying being alive. but such is how life goes. can one expect to have an exciting life when most people are ordinary and live a quiet life? that was how he comforted himself, trudging through every day and feeling the colour of his existence bleed out to what felt like near nothingness.

and then one day, tired of the painfully ordinary life he had reduced himself to, he challenged himself to break out of it. to open his eyes wide and truly look at all the beauty he knew he could see around him. 

it was a shock, really, when he finally saw that there had been someone patiently waiting for him all this time. a longtime friend, who had watched over and cared about him for years, never saying a word about her feelings because she, too, not believing that anything would come out of her love, had resigned herself to living her days out quietly.

there was finally a spark in his life. he can’t quite remember who said the first word that resulted in their paths joining. maybe it was gradual – the two separate paths slowly drawing closer and closer to each other and finally meeting. all he remembers is that there was a time when he was alone. and then, very suddenly, there was a time where he wasn’t.

* * *

it was unbelievably electric. to find someone he loved, who loved him back – he had never thought that something like that was possible. it felt as though all the emotion he had never shown before was spilling out all at once. he loved fiercely, and his emotions were reciprocated with equal intensity. everything was new; he had never been in a relationship before, and neither had she. there were times when both of them didn’t know what they were doing, but it was easily laughed off – when they were looking at the skyline together and he tried to put his arm around her waist but aimed too low and ended up grabbing her ass and she let out a squeak that embarrassed her but that he found extremely adorable, when she tried to cook dinner for him after a long day of studying for finals but accidentally left the chicken in the oven for too long and they both had to eat burned chicken. in the end, they were in love. whatever one of them messed up, as long as it wasn’t something that broke the law, it was forgivable. whenever he thinks back to those few months, he thought that his heart would burst from the happiness he felt. they really had been so in love.

and yet, at some point in time, the unending adoration dulled. even though the cynic had found what he had wanted all his life and he had gotten the great love he thought he would never get, after a while it became ordinary. what was once cute and fascinating and impressive ceased to be as amazing as he used to think it was. they were both still in love, but it had become milder. and this was when he realised that both of them had a hidden talent in hurting each other. 

it was never intentional. a careless word or two which pushed the wrong buttons (“i wouldn’t kill you” “well, not yet” – and then a long pause in between where she was unnervingly quiet, before finally saying, “how could you think something like that?” even though “not yet” had been said in jest and she knew it). and they both still wanted to be together. it just felt as though it was becoming harder and harder to constantly be happy, to escape the terrifying boring that their days used to be full of. 

and one day it hit him – although they had started off with that beautiful idea of love, somehow it had changed to the pain and sadness he had once convinced himself was all he would experience. it was a devastating realization. he, who had loved so much and given so much of himself to her. she, who had felt the same intense feelings he had. how did they end up like this?

the days were long and cold. he found no comfort in their relationship anymore. he spent many of his nights thinking about the two of them and the state that he had found them to be in, rather than sleeping peacefully as she did, in the bed next to him. on one of those nights, a fleeting thought came to him – perhaps, they just weren’t good at loving and being loved. the thought took root in his mind, growing as he constantly thought of it. what a poetic sentiment. if only it didn’t apply to him. 

* * *

he had wanted to ignore these feelings that they shouldn’t stay together. he wanted to cling onto his love for her, but it was fading rapidly, accelerating when he tried to be sweeter to her or to mask the unease he felt whenever they spoke of a future together. but feelings can never be disregarded forever, and in one of his nights of thinking, he finally decided that he couldn’t drag out the inevitable indefinitely. it would be less cruel to stop leading her on as soon as he could.

he tried to make it easy on her. a quiet dinner at home, a small bouquet of flowers that he wasn’t sure why he bought, except that he had felt like he was prompted to. something about the unassuming white blossoms attracted him. she was excited – it had been a long time since he had cooked for them. she started a lively conversation, but it soon faltered and died altogether when it met his stony silence.

when they were midway through their dinner, she couldn’t take it any longer and blurted out, “you can just say what’s on your mind. i know there’s something you want to tell me.” and he had been hesitating up till that point, but at her straightforward question he made up his mind. he had to say it.

she took it well, for the most part. there were tears, but she agreed that they weren’t the same as they once had been and that she longed for how things were like in the past too. so they both decided to let go. she left the house for the night, not out of anger, but out of politeness as she knew that staying in the same house right after their separation would be unbearable for both of them. 

she left the flowers behind. he sat on the couch staring at them for a while, before he got up and held the bouquet, studying the flowers intensely. their beauty was immense, but he had no clue what their name was, as he had bought them on a whim, having to hurry home right after to start cooking.

a quick google search later, he found the name of the flower. diphylleia grayi. skeleton flower. pretty white petals that turn transparent when stained by rain. as he read the description of the flower, he laughed a little to himself. didn’t that sound like his love? so beautiful, but it disappeared after his intense feelings drenched their love. 

but then again, in those long, dark nights, anything would seem poetic. maybe the romanticist in him was trying to find the beauty in everything around him once again, to soothe the loss of his one beautiful great love.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a good way to break my nine-month unofficial hiatus, isn't it? 
> 
> i wanted to post this exactly one week earlier, on the one year anniversary of jonghyun's passing, but i was overseas at the time and i wasn't able to post it until now. so i guess this is my belated tribute, and christmas gift. thank you for all that you have given to the world, kim jonghyun. you are still so fondly remembered. i hope you have been resting in peace.


End file.
